•SAANVI'S POV•

"OG!!"

I screamed from the top of the stairs, voice laced with pure rage. He flinched, the newspaper in his hands rustling as he slightly jumped, looking up at me with wide eyes.

I stormed down the steps, glaring daggers at him.

"W-What?" he stuttered, already looking nervous.

I stopped right in front of him, shoving my hand out. "Look at my nails!"

His eyes dropped to my fingers, and he immediately looked away, gulping like a caught criminal.

"I told you not to cut my nails! You did it secretly last night while I was sleeping, didn't you?! How could you? I did fresh nail art yesterday-it was so pretty!" I cried out in frustration.

He just shrugged and sank back into the couch, acting completely unbothered. "Meine bhi bola na, acche bacche nails nahi badhate. (I also told you, good kids don't grow their nails) Do you even know how much dirt and bacteria gets under them?"

"You're so mean! It was beautiful!" I sniffled.

But he didn't even look at me. He just turned a page and kept reading his stupid newspaper.

"Maa!" I yelled, stomping away.

Within seconds, Maa stepped out of her room, fixing her earrings. She looked stunning as always in her sleek black top tucked neatly into white trousers, paired with a black blazer. Her heels clicked softly as she walked out, a vision of effortless grace.

I rushed over and wrapped my arms around her waist, burying my face in her shoulder. She gently hugged me back, resting her hand on my head.

"What happened, darling?" she asked, voice calm and sweet.

"He cut my nails, Maa! I did such pretty nail art yesterday, and now it's all gone!" I mumbled, sulking.

She sighed deeply and turned a glare to Papa. "Abhi, why do you always do this?" she scolded, her voice sharper now.

He stood up casually, brushing nonexistent dust off his T-shirt, then came toward us. Grabbing my wrist, he gently nudged me aside and wrapped his arms around Maa instead.

"Don't you think, Adrika, you're being too harsh on your husband?" he said with a grin, breaking the hug to look at her with hurt. "She's manipulating you against me."

Maa rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Move," she said, pushing him off her.

I snorted, but immediately shut up when he shot me a glare.

"I really don't know how you two are going to survive alone in this house today," Maa muttered, shaking her head as she adjusted her bracelet. "If work wasn't so important, I'd never leave you both together. Just... don't kill each other, please."

I nodded silently. She wasn't wrong. But let's be honest, it's never my fault. He's the one doing bizarre, illogical stuff every time.

✿✿✿✿✿

"Saanvi, get up. It's time for exercise."

Papa's voice cut through the living room as he stepped right in front of the TV, blocking my view completely. I was lying on the couch, half-wrapped in a throw blanket, eyes glued to the screen.

I glanced up at him, unimpressed. He raised an eyebrow, just as unimpressed. I leaned sideways to peek, and so did he-to block me again.

I sat up with a sigh. "I'm busy."

He gave me a dry look, then lightly tapped the back of my head. "Busy watching this bizarre cartoon? What's it called? Chimpy... chimpanzee?"

I turned to him, scandalized. "Chimpui. For God's sake, get the name right."

"Right. Chimpui." He muttered. "Even the name sounds like a digestive problem."

"Papa, please." I tried smiling sweetly.

"You only call me that when you're trying to escape something."

I huffed and stood, dragging myself to my room. "Fine."

Inside, I changed into my sports fit.



I stood in front of the mirror, a soft smile tugging at my lips. These days, a lot has changed, especially my relationship with Maa and Papa. With Maa, it was expected. But with him-OG, I never saw it coming.

And yet, somehow, despite how infuriatingly annoying he could be... I had grown to weirdly appreciate his constant nagging. His little lectures, the way he kept an eye on everything it wasn't just noise anymore. It felt like someone cared.

A little discipline, coming from someone who genuinely meant well, was something I never had before. And now, it didn't feel like control. It felt like comfort. Like home.

Still, sometimes he really crossed the line. Like, borderline villain level. I sighed as a particular memory popped into my head.

Two days ago...

"You lazy nurse, wake up! It's 6 AM! You have to exercise!"

His knock had more aggression than the alarm clock. I groaned from under my blanket. "Skipping it."

"You are not." Thump. Another knock.

I stormed to the door, yanked it open. His hand froze mid-air, about to knock again.

I blinked at him sleepily, turned around, and dropped back into bed.

Seconds later, he was inside, trying to snatch my blanket. I tightened my grip.

"I opened the door, I didn't agree to go!"

"Get up."

"You don't let me sleep in peace!" I groaned.

He yanked the blanket away completely and folded his arms. "I let you sleep for two damn days just because you promised you'd wake up early. And when did you rise from the dead? 2 PM. In what world is that a routine?" He paced near the bed like a disappointed gym trainer, arms flailing.

"You're supposed to build a healthy schedule, and still you're acting like-Saanvi? Saanvi?!" He stopped mid-rant.

I was back under the blanket, one leg out like I died mid-scolding.

"Are you seriously sleeping mid-insult?! Unbelievable!"

I flinched and sat up straight. "Just five more minutes, Papa. Please."

"You said that yesterday. Then woke up at noon. Not happening. Get dressed."

I sat there, defeated. "Maa!"

"She's at the temple. You're out of options." He smirked, victorious.

I slammed my fist into the mattress. "I hate you so much right now."

"Touching. Now move."

I sighed and headed downstairs, still a little sleepy.

He was already ready, standing by the door with his water bottle, stretching his arms like he was prepping for a marathon.

"Aww, look who finally joined the living," he said, patting my head as I walked past.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

"Stop." He called out just as I stepped toward the garden.

I turned back. "What now?"

"We're going to the public park today. You need to learn social interaction."

"I talk to you. Isn't that suffering enough? and no. There'll be strangers there. I can't."

I backed up and grabbed the side of the couch. He walked over and started pulling my arm.

"Let go! I'm not going!"

"Saanvi, stop behaving like a toddler."

"Stop looking like a gym-obsessed insurance agent."

"I'll make cheesecake."

I stopped mid-resistance.

"Which flavor?" I asked suspiciously.

"Salted caramel."

I let go of the couch immediately and marched toward the door.

"That's what I thought," he muttered behind me.

"Let's just go before I change my mind."

✿✿✿✿✿

"Time, please! I'm tired," I gasped, crouching with my hands on my knees, trying not to collapse on the park path.

"Stop being dramatic," Papa scoffed, not even breaking a sweat. "You've walked for five minutes. Five. Not a marathon."

"I have a heart condition, remember?" I threw out the trump card, lifting a brow with as much innocence as I could fake.

"Yeah, and I have your entire diet chart and workout limit saved. Nice try." He folded his arms,

I groaned and muttered, "Fine," already regretting life.

He guided me through some warm-ups and light exercises like he was training for the Olympics. I, on the other hand, was two seconds away from collapsing into the grass and accepting my fate.

"How are you not tired? Aren't your joints supposed to complain by now? I thought I'd have to carry you back." I muttered, side-eyeing him.

He gave me a slow side glance, one brow raised in clear judgment. "You don't know who I was back in my time. I still work out every day that's why I'm not huffing like you."

I raised a brow, lips twitching into a sarcastic smile. "Bol toh aise rahe hai aap jaise kisi zamane mein agent ya spy the. (You're talking like you were some kind of agent or spy back in the day)"

He pressed his lips together like he was holding back a smile, then tilted his head and shrugged casually. "Who knows?"

Seriously? He's the king of exaggeration. Man really thinks he was born to sneak around in black suits with code names.

Suddenly, Brownie barked from the other side of the park, running up to us with his tongue out

"Even Brownie looks more athletic than you," he crouched to pat him, "Good job, Brownie. You've worked harder than this nurse in an entire week."

I rolled my eyes, pretending not to hear, but then caught Brownie wagging his tail proudly at the compliment.

I frowned. "You really smiled at that?"

Papa stood up and brushed his hands. "Come on. Let's go home."

He started walking ahead while Brownie trotted loyally behind him like they were best friends since birth. I narrowed my eyes at the dog.

"You," I said, pointing at him. "Is this how you repay me? After all I've done for you?"

Brownie didn't even look back. Just kept walking.

"Brownie-what the f-! Get back here!" I called out, jaw dropping as he ignored me like I was a stranger in the park.

I sighed, defeated, and trudged after them. "Unbelievable. Traitor in fur."

✿✿✿✿✿

"Thank you, Papa. You're... sometimes sufferable," I mumbled through a bite of the cheesecake he had made, licking a bit of cream from the corner of my lip.

Papa sat beside me on the couch, legs crossed casually, holding his plate. He gave me a flat look.

"Only when I make cheesecake, right?"

I grinned, leaning slightly into him. "Exactly."

Maa, sitting on my other side with her back resting against a cushion, let out a soft chuckle.

I glanced between them. "Maa, how did you spend all those years with him?"

She looked over at Papa with a faint smile then turned to me. "It was... actually very easy."

I tilted my head and looked at Papa again. He was now distracted, drawing patterns on his empty plate with his spoon. But I noticed it a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

"The way you both act," I said, shifting on the couch to face them better, "I can bet you had a love marriage."

Maa raised her eyebrows, lips twitching. "You think that?"

I nodded confidently. "Totally."

"Well," she said, her voice calm, "it was arranged."

I blinked. "What?" My head whipped toward Papa.

He glanced up, then gave a small nod but his fingers gripped the plate just a bit tighter.

"Were you forced?"

Maa shook her head. "No, beta. My parents simply asked if I had anyone in mind. I didn't. So I told them they could find someone for me."

My forehead creased. "So you just said yes to any random guy they picked? What if he turned out to be toxic or... I don't know, emotionally constipated?"

Papa suddenly stopped moving his spoon and turned his head toward me, giving me a sharp glare.

"What exactly are you implying?"

I raised my hands defensively. "Nothing just saying, it was a huge risk."

Maa let out a small laugh. "Luckily, it worked out. My parents brought Abhi's proposal and I said yes."

She looked at Papa fondly, then added, "And on our wedding night, he walked into the room and-"

"Alright, alright! No need for details!" I waved both hands frantically, eyes wide. "I know what happens after marriage. Spare me, please."

Maa scoffed, folding her arms. "You know nothing."

She looked past me and glared at Papa. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stared at the wall like it had just become very interesting.

I raised an eyebrow. "What did he do?"

"He came into the bedroom," Maa began, tone flat, "stood there for a second, and said, 'I don't love you. I was forced into this marriage, We'll stay out of each other's way. I won't interfere in your life, you don't interfere in mine'"

I slowly turned to Papa, eyes wide. "You actually said that?"

He exhaled through his nose and nodded. "I didn't mean to be rude. I just... felt trapped. And I didn't want her to have false hope but I regretted it the second I said it."

"Then what happened?" I asked.

"She started crying," he admitted, looking down. "And I panicked. I said sorry. A hundred times. But she wouldn't stop, so..."

He trailed off, glancing at Maa.

She leaned back, arms crossed. "So he decided to crack a joke."

I blinked. "A joke?"

She nodded glaring at him. "He said, 'When I first heard your name, Adrika, I thought it sounded like Adrak (ginger).'"

I froze. Then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Papa rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to smile. "I thought it might lighten the mood."

"You said that?" I asked through laughter, clapping his shoulder. "That's actually... kind of hilarious."

He chuckled too and we high-fived.

But the second I looked at Maa's face, still unimpressed, I straightened up immediately.

"But that was incredibly insensitive," I added quickly, scolding him with a mock serious tone. "Making fun of someone's name is just... not cool."

Papa's eyes widened. "You were just laughing!"

"I'm a woman," I said, flipping my hair. "And a feminist. I don't condone such humor."

Maa gave me a look. "Hypocrite."

"Excuse me," I said, placing a hand on my heart. "I stand for dignity."

She shook her head, amused.

"By the way Maa, how did you sit through that silently? You should have-"

"I didn't sit silently, beta. I threw a full mug of cold water on his face while he was asleep." She cut me off smoothly, folding her arms with a smug smile.

I blinked. "You what?"

Papa cleared his throat, awkwardly pushing his plate away like it had suddenly become too spicy.

Maa leaned back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other, owning the moment. "Woke up coughing, flailing like a fish out of water. That's when I told him 'If you're going to act like a stranger, I'll treat you like one. And strangers don't get to breathe comfortably with me.'"

I choked on my cheesecake, laughing. "Maa, you're savage!"

She smiled sweetly, eating her cheesecake. "I had to set the tone early, darling. Otherwise, this man would've turned our marriage into a roommate agreement."

"And yet, you stayed," I teased.

"Of course," she shrugged. "After all, someone had to teach him what a real partnership looks like." Then she glanced at Papa with a raised brow. "And keep him humble."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I've been humble ever since. I don't even touch the AC remote without asking."

"By the way Saanvi you were laughing with him?" Maa asked, staring straight at me.

I gasped, pointing at myself. "Maa! Please. I stand with women. I would never laugh at such sexist jokes. You know me."

Papa scoffed. "Yeah, she stands with whoever has the last piece of cheesecakes."

"Anyway" I stood up, dusting imaginary crumbs off my shirt. "This conversation is going nowhere."

"Okay, enough now," Maa said, brushing her hands together as she stood. "Saanvi, come on, it's been five days, let's get your hair oiled."

"It's okay Maa, you must be tired. You rest, Papa will do it. He actually gives a better hair massage."

Papa looked up. "Yeah, yeah, go get the oil already, drama queen." He shook his head and grabbed our plates, heading toward the kitchen.

I came back with the oil bottle, handed it to him, and sat on the floor. He got comfortable on the couch, twisting the cap open.

He poured the oil carefully onto my scalp, his fingers gentle as he rubbed it in and started massaging with firm, practiced strokes. I closed my eyes slightly, relaxing.

"Saanvi?" he called softly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to join the hospital again?"

I froze. My eyes opened wide, staring straight ahead, right at Maa.

She had already gotten up. Without a word, she came and sat cross legged on the floor in front of me, gently taking my hands into hers and placing them on her lap.

"I talked to Dr. Meera yesterday," Her thumb rubbing soft circles on my wrist. "She said you can join again. She warned against overworking, yes, but Saanvi..." She leaned in and cupped my cheeks tenderly.

"She said sometimes staying home does more damage than good. Overthinking eats you alive, even if you pretend you're okay. Working might help keep your mind occupied, help you heal without realizing it. So, we thought, we'd ask you, bacche. But only if you're ready, okay? It's alright if you're not."

"I... I want to," I murmured. "But... it's just that-" I sighed, dropping my head slightly.

Papa suddenly shifted. He got off the couch and sat beside Maa on the floor, his hand landing gently on my head.

"It's entirely up to you," he said softly. "But if you're only holding back because you're scared of what people at the hospital might say, don't be. Leave that to me." His tone sharpened just a bit. "No one-no one-will say a word to you. I'll make sure of it."

He paused, watching me carefully before speaking again. "People will talk, beta. That's just what they do. Whether you stay home or go back, they'll have opinions. That's not something you can control. But what you can control is whether or not they get to decide how you live your life."

I looked down, swallowing hard.

"You're not weak, Saanvi. You've just been through hell, and surviving that isn't a weakness. But hiding from life because of it... that's not healing. That's fear wearing a mask. And if you let it settle in, it'll consume you quietly. You'll start shrinking yourself every time something gets too loud or too familiar."

He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "And I'll be honest with you, it won't suddenly feel better when you walk in there. Some people will still stare. Some won't say a word but will speak volumes with their silence. And some... will try to be kind and fail miserably. That's life. It's messy, it's awkward, and it doesn't care if you're ready or not. But you, you need to decide whether you're going to let one chapter define the rest of your story."

I blinked rapidly, not trusting my voice.

"You're not going back to prove a point, Saanvi. You're going back because this profession is a part of you. You're good at it. You care. And you've worked too damn hard to throw it away because some people didn't have the courage to stand beside you when you needed them."

Maa reached for my hands, holding them gently in her lap.

Papa's voice softened, "Let me be clear, no one will say a word to you. If they do, they'll deal with me. But you have to walk in there with your head up, not because everything's okay, but because you're choosing to keep moving forward despite it not being okay."

I stared at him, and for a moment, I completely forgot we weren't tied by blood.

Everything about him, his voice, his presence, the way he looked at me like I mattered, felt like the father I used to silently wish. Not the kind who just exists in the background, but the kind who sees you. Who fights for you even when you're not asking. Who doesn't need to say "I'll be there"-because when it truly counts, he already is.

When we first met, he argued with me more than he spoke. He never made promises, never said he'd stand beside me. But when everything around me crumbled, he was the one who stayed. Silently and stubbornly.

And now, I think I found him.

Not a dad. Not someone with shared DNA.

But my papa.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'll join the hospital," I murmured.

Papa smiled faintly, nodding. "That's my daughter."

"And if someone crosses a line," he added sharply, "go ahead and kill them. I'll handle the legal part."

Maa rolled her eyes. "Please don't make her worse."

I managed a small laugh.

"I won't become like him, Maa," I said. "But... maybe a little of his madness is useful sometimes."

He chuckled. "I talked to the hospital. You can join tomorrow, or take your time. It's up to you."

"I'll join tomorrow," I said firmly.

"And at night, we'll celebrate," Maa beamed.

We all burst into laughter.

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